


Call You Home

by DieRosenrot



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, Romance, Slight Canon-Divergence, Slow Burn, more characters warnings and tags to come, prepare for trouble and make it double, there are two Suranas in this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieRosenrot/pseuds/DieRosenrot
Summary: Two elven mages are desperate to leave the Circle behind, and when the Grey Wardens offer salvation, they accept it blindly. Eryn just wants freedom, and Veela seeks to return to her family. They thought that they only needed to fight the Blight to be free, but realize that what they seek might be right in front of them in the friends and family they make along the way.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Surana (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai/Female Surana, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Elgara vallas, da’len **| Sun sets, little one,**

Melava somniar **| Time to dream**

Mala taren aravas **| Your mind journeys,**

Ara ma’desen melar **| But I will hold you here**

Iras ma ghilas, da’len, **| Where will you go, little one,**

Ara ma’nedan ashir **| Lost to me in sleep?**

Dirthara lothlenan’as **| Seek truth in a forgotten land**

Bal emma mala dir **| Deep within your heart**

Tel’enfenim, da’len **| Never fear, little one,**

Irassal ma ghilas **| Whenever you shall go**

Ma garas mir renan **| Follow my voice**

Ara ma’athlan vhenas **| I will call you home**

Ara ma’athlan vhenas **| I will call you home**

**

Leisure day had barely begun on the Circle Tower and the young elven apprentice was already running downstairs in a hurry, eager to find the front gates. She could only go out twice a month for a couple hours, a privilege won after years of proving and begging to the First Enchanter, so she tried to make the best out of it. After spending the whole week barely being able to see the sunlight, she just wished to lie down on the grass, watch the sky and forget about the ominous building behind her for a few moments. With a notebook in hand, she greeted the templars in front of the great oaken doors on the ground floor.

“Good morning, Eryn,” said Bernhard, a young templar from Highever who was always very polite with everyone. “You’re up early.”

“Hi Bern!” her smile was broad and honest. “Yes, the morning sun is my favourite.” 

“And what do you got there?” asked the second guard, much larger and older than the first. He did not bother greeting her back, as she did not bother remembering his name.

“It’s just my notes.” 

“Why, don’t tell me you’re going to study out there!” Bernhard sounded surprised, but laughed under his breath, “It’s your day off, give yourself a break.”

"Oh, but I have a book, too!" she pulled out a tiny leather-covered book from her cloak's pocket, showing it to the men. "And it's a romance. I promise I won't go digging the gardens to take notes on bugs like last time." 

"Yes, you better not," the old guard warned her in his usual grumpy manners, but turned around on his feet to open the gates. His partner did the same. 

“Have fun, Eryn,” said the lad almost to himself as he watched the girl sprint forward, still having the brightest smile on her face.

The spring was already showing itself as the flowers bloomed, but still the last of winter’s breeze was cold enough to make Eryn’s body shiver as she stepped out and exposed herself to the open field of the island’s terrains. She enjoyed it, regardless. Any fresh air was better than being locked inside that tower all day. In front of the oaken doors there was a stone path of stairs leading down to the docks, where more templars helped merchants bring crates of goods to the Tower from the cities around Lake Calenhad’s shore. They saw her standing on top of the hill, but recognized the white hair shining under the sun as if it had a light of its own and ignored her, used to her being outside from time to time. She greeted the merchants with a slight move of her head, but they too were not concerned with her. The feeling of not being watched filled her body with excitement once again, and she set herself off to look for a nice place to lie down. 

Not too far from the docks, the sun was warming the pale green grass around a small garden, and Eryn got herself a spot there, leaving her book and notes on the ground and pulling up the sleeves and length of her apprentice robes. She sat down and leaned over the flowers to touch the petals carefully, as if greeting them, too. Her mind was already absent of any thoughts regarding her daily routine, feeling like she was in a completely different place away from cold stone walls, shadows and people murmuring to one another. With her eyes closed, she let her body fall back, laying against the grass and spreading her arms and legs all over, feeling the earth beneath. It was peaceful to feel the sun touching her skin, and so she stayed still for a few minutes, until she opened her eyes to gaze at the puffy clouds. She could listen to the water breaking on the island’s shore, a shy bird singing in distance and the wind guiding the flight of the first insects of that season.

However, the very sight of the Tower’s roof from the corner of her eyes brought her back to reality. She sat up again and hugged her own knees, facing the waters downhill. What could lie on the other side of that gigantic lake, she could only imagine. She knew she wasn’t born on the Circle of Magi’s island, of course, but she also didn’t know where she came from, nor had any memories from the lands abroad. Once again, her mind traveled away from the Tower and into imaginary places, many from all the fictional and academic books she had read throughout the years and that formed vivid images in her head. With eyes fixed on the lake, she imagined going into that water, turning it all into ice and walking to the other margin, even if she couldn’t see it from where she was standing. The breeze on her back felt like hands pushing her towards it and, without realizing, she was up on her feet, walking downhill to the lake. She thought of forests and valleys, cities and castles, people and animals. Was the ocean just like that lake? Or was it darker? It was deeper, for sure, but by the Maker, she wanted to see it with her own eyes. 

“You, elf!” shouted a male voice from afar, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Eryn blinked, startled by the sound, and looked down to her feet as she felt something was off. She had both boots underwater, with tiny ice fragments around her. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw a templar rushing towards her in full armor, his face covered with a helm and his eyes hidden in the shadows of all the surrounding metal. Of course she was being watched. In a sudden movement, she jumped out of water, but couldn’t think of any spells to dry her boots quickly enough and pretend she wasn’t in the water at all. She knew she would spend the rest of her free time there listening to that human complain about rules and limits where the apprentices could or could not go. She took a deep breath, preparing herself as the templar finally reached her.

“Leon, calm down,” said Bernhard, unexpectedly. He was running after the other templar, finally catching up and resting a hand on the man’s armor. “It’s fine, leave her to me.”

After a brief discussion and a lot of complaining, the first soldier agreed to let Bernhard lead the situation. The other few mages allowed to have a day off outside the building would soon gather in front of the doors, so someone had to be there, anyway. Eryn watched the man leave in silence, but bit her lower lip when faced the dark haired lad again.

“So,” he continued, smiling.

She let out a sigh of pure relief when interrupting him. “Maker, I thought he was going to kill me on the spot! Thank you for having my back again.”

“No problem, Eryn,” he chuckled, but raised an eyebrow when saw her feet and robes soaking wet. “Going for a swim?”

“I… can’t explain, really,” she admitted “But I swear I wasn’t trying to go anywhere or do anything.”

“Well, you’d be an idiot to try,” Bernhard shrugged, looking at the lake behind the girl. “It’s a long way to the other shore. No one can make it there swimming. That’s why we are on this island, after all.” He paused, but soon turned his face again to meet hers. “Anyway, I was just passing by to tell you something and not to save your ass again. First Enchanter Irving wants to talk to you and you still have one hour left out here, so when you’re done just go upstairs and meet him, ok?”

“Do you know what is it about? Why does he want to talk to me?” she said in confusion.

“Oh, he said he just needs your help, but not to worry. You’re not in trouble _this time,_ ” he laughed. “Just make sure to meet him afterwards.”

“Yes, sure.” She smiled. “Thank you, Bern.” 

“Of course, Eryn.” He bowed his head slightly before turning his back to her and walking towards the Tower uphill. A few meters ahead, however, he called for her again, “And stay away from the water!” 

The elf chuckled, agreeing with her head. She took off her boots and walked back to where she had left her book and notes. Luckily, the sun was still shining high, warm enough to dry her clothes a little, and so she sat down again. For the next hour, she lost herself once more, this time in the pages of a cheesy Orlesian romance, but made sure to take notes on every detail she could possibly gather from the outside world. 

**

When Eryn got back inside the tower, she went straight up to the apprentice quarters on the first floor. It was a series of huge rooms filled with bunk beds, chests for personal storage and a few tables and couches. It wasn’t a bad place to live, but it wasn’t luxurious either and surely could use more of the concept of privacy in the bathrooms. Eryn’s bunk was in the far right corner by the windows, where she could get the most sunlight. She used the top bed and the bottom one was always vacant, so she usually left all her books, notes, clothes and, really, anything else on top of it. Not that she did not use her personal chest, it was just that she found it much easier to have everything lying around at eyesight than have it all locked in a box. No one ever complained about her mess, so she never stopped doing it.

She crossed the room and took her boots off, still slightly wet, but she would have to deal with it later. Now she needed to hurry to the second floor and meet Irving at once. She grabbed another pair of boots from under the bunks to put them on, but as she did, she also noticed that her robes were covered in dirt and grass. Sighing, she got clean clothes on top of the bed, changing herself right where she was standing. It was a common practice among the apprentices to just change in the open rooms because no one really cared to see others and be seen in their small clothes, except maybe for those who were still new to the Circle. They were all very used to one another, so there was no point in keeping certain social behaviours from the outside world. 

“There you are!” said Jowan, Eryn’s only friend, in his usual energetic way as he entered the room. “I’ve been looking for you. Heard that Irving wants to talk to you, is it true?”

“Yes, it is. I’m actually on my way there right now,” she said as she finished straightening her clean robes and putting the boots on. “Do you know what this is about?”

“Well, I was hoping to know from you!” He sat down on his own bed, the bottom one on the bunk beside Eryn’s, and looked at her eagerly. “Do you think he’s calling you for your Harrowing?”

“What? No way, I’m only fifteen years old, Jowan.” She laughed, but the mere thought of a Harrowing was enough to make her nervous.

“Yes, but you have also been here for, what, 10 years now, right? That’s more than any of us in the apprentice quarters.” He shrugged, making a point. “I think you are ready.”

“Well, I am not.” She took a deep breath, “I should be going. I’ll meet you later, ok? And if I don’t come back, tell everyone I finally escaped this place rather than died in the Fade.” 

“Will do, Eryn.” They laughed. When she turned her back, Jowan called for her once again, moving towards her. “There’s grass all over your hair. You should really get a haircut,” he said while taking bits of leaves and dirt off her long curls. 

“I shall never!” she replied, pretending to be offended by the idea of cutting down years of growth. 

“Well, at least take a bath, then. You stink.”

Now she was actually offended but, still laughing, she punched his arm. She was a short girl, even when compared to other elves, and wasn’t particularly strong either, so Jowan barely felt any pain. Finally, she left the apprentice quarters and headed to the staircase for the second floor. Everything was always the same inside the circle tower, with dozens of people walking up and down, walls so high that it was difficult to look at the ceiling, stained glass windows always closed and templars carefully watching from every corner. The elf had it all memorized, so she easily went through it. 

As she walked, she couldn’t stop thinking of the possibility of her Harrowing happening so soon, as Jowan suggested. It would be absurd, wouldn't it? She was still very young and she knew it. She did not know exactly how a harrowing happened since no one was allowed to talk about it with apprentices, but she knew that there would be at least one demon to deal with - and she absolutely hated demons. Her heart was beating faster at every step she took, but she quickly arrived at the senior mage quarters and made her way along the circular corridors to another pair of great oaken doors, adorned with iron bars in a vine pattern. The First Enchanter’s office was a room Eryn also knew way too well in the tower, having spent a great portion of her childhood there, learning directly from Irving and, not unusually, being scolded by him there every time she was caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing. 

Two knocks on the door were sufficient for a voice to ask her to come in, and so she did in silence. Irving was standing up behind his desk and greeted her politely as she closed the door behind her. She noticed two templars on each side of her, standing by the corners of the office, both resting their hands on the swords’ pommels and having their eyes fixed on her as she approached the desk.

“Eryn, welcome. Please take a seat, I would like to introduce you to someone,” started the First Enchanter, not making much of a ceremony on the matter. “This is Veela Surana. She just arrived at our Circle and will be at your mentoring for now.”

It was only when Eryn got to one of the two large armchairs in front of Irving’s desk that she noticed someone else already there. A young elven girl with bright ginger hair and tattoos all over her forehead and cheekbones was sitting grumpy-faced, staring at her own knees. She did not make any comments or even looked up at her.

“Nice to meet you,” said Eryn, regardless. As she noticed that the newcomer had bruises all over her arms and face, her eyes went back wildly at Irving, demanding more explanations. “I’m sorry Irving, what is this about, again?”

Irving took a deep breath and took his seat, pointing once again at the vacant armchair so Eryn could do the same. “Veela is a mage from the Dalish, but…” the newcomer’s eyebrows frowned and her jawline tightened as he mentioned the elven clans, and he changed his approach quickly, “She will stay with us from now on, and since both of you are very skilled maidens of the same age, I thought it would be a good idea if you guided her through her adaptation in here. Also, I’ve heard that there’s a vacant bed in your bunk, so she could also stay with you in the apprentice quarters. Can I ask this from you, Eryn?”

The girl blinked a few times, trying to process the situation. She came there expecting a harrowing, but somehow ended up mentoring someone? This would be harder than the demons. 

“Of course, First Enchanter.” She nodded her head, referring to him as she would whenever she felt like she had no say on the matter, rather than using his first name as he asked her to so many times. Eryn knew he was very fond of her, and she even considered him as a fatherly figure, but was well aware that this was an exception created in secret throughout the years. “Is there anything else?” 

“No, that will be all. She will follow your routine, so make sure she feels at home.” He then turned his focus to the dalish girl and addressed her in a warm voice, “I know that you are angry and confused, child, but I hope you will find a family in here as well, and that you see that it is not as bad in here as you may think. Eryn and I will help you heal.” There was no response. “Now go, both of you. Enjoy your day.”

The dalish stood up, making her way out of the room in a hurry. Eryn looked from the girl to Irving, frowning in confusion and protest, but otherwise sat still in her chair. “What happened?” she asked in a single breath, referring to all the bruises on the other’s body.

“Veela… She has been through a lot, these past weeks.” Irving sighed, “But I’m sure you can ask her about it later. Just try to be patient with her and comprehend her needs. I wouldn’t ask you for this if I did not trust you, my child.” 

Eryn’s shoulders were tense, but a deep breath was enough to make her body relax. “I will do my best, Irving”, she promised as she stood up and headed to the door. In the hallways, she followed back the way she came from to look for Veela and had to ask a few people for her directions, but finally found the girl. She was in the chantry, sitting in a corner between a wall and an open door that hid her from the rest of the room. It was a quiet and peaceful place despite the many unsettling statues of Andraste. The dalish was hugging her own knees, staring at one of those statues with a feral countenance, yet teary.

“Hey,” Eryn approached carefully, kneeling down in front of her. “Can we start this again? I’m Eryn, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Once again, the girl said nothing, and turned her face to the right to face the stone walls around her. The white-haired girl did not give up, “So you’re from the Dalish, huh? I’ve never met a dalish elf before. Your tattoos are beautiful.” 

Again, silence.

“Do you want to go to the kitchen? I’m sure we can get ourselves some cinnamon cakes if we act quickly and quietly.” 

“Listen,” the other girl spoke for the first time, looking at Eryn’s eyes, “I do not mean to be rude, I’m sure you’re a marvellous person, but can you please leave me alone?” 

“Oh, finally! I was wondering how long it would take for you to speak.” She sounded slightly sarcastic, but smiled friendly, “Can I at least show you your bed, so you can get off of this cold floor?” Eryn stood up again and offered her hand, “Or do you wish to join the afternoon prayer?” 

Frowning, Veela peeked past the door that shielded her. In the wide hall of the Chantry, she could see the Sisters tidying up the room for what she assumed was a regular event in the Circle - one that she had absolutely no interest in participating in. She looked up at Eryn again, who was still smiling, and gave up in a sigh. Veela accepted the help to stand up, holding the other’s hands and jumping to her feet. 

**

They walked together back to the circular hallways of the tower, heading to the first floor, and Eryn couldn’t help herself but to start talking again. It was a short way to the apprentice quarters, but for Veela it felt like an eternity, even if she was not really paying attention to the girl by her side. Her thoughts were full of how ominous that tower seemed to be, with its imposing walls and lack of opened windows.

“But anyway, this is your bed” said Eryn, wrapping up another chat for later. She almost forgot all her belongings spread across the mattress, so she rushed to take it all from there, apologizing. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I had a bunkmate.”

“What happened to the last one?” 

“He, uh…”

“He couldn’t stand her, that’s what.” Jowan stood up from his bed and greeted the girls. “She talks in her sleep, did you know that? It’s rather annoying.” 

“I don’t!” Eryn snapped. “And watch your manners. It’s her first day, be kind.”

“And I apologize for that,” he faced Veela, sincerely, and bowed his head in a greeting. She did not move or say anything. “My name is Jowan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. So, Eryn, no Harrowing for you now?” 

The newcomer stayed in silence, watching as the friends exchanged idle chat. It seems like having new people arriving was somehow usual. She turned her attention to her new bed, scanning her surroundings. It was a simple bunk, but seemed comfortable enough and had many blankets. _Winter in this Tower must be freezing_ , she assumed, while from the large stained glass window by her bed she could see the spring. Veela felt her heart heavy, as if it was about to fall from her chest and shatter on the ground, but instead a rush of blood ran around her body. The urge to escape from that place ruled over her and she knew: She needed to run. 

“I think we should probably go before the others eat all the good food.” said Jowan. His voice sounded distant, as if he and Veela were not existing in the same place. Her head felt light and her body heavy, the room was spinning and even breathing seemed different, more difficult. As she stared at the scenery through the closed window, her eyes burned with the sensation of crying, but no tears formed.

“Veela, are you alright?” asked Eryn, carefully placing a hand over her shoulder. 

Veela startled, as the touch brought her back to reality. “Yes,” she stuttered, “I am sorry, I think I need to lay down for a while.”

When the dalish turned her head to face Eryn, she came across a motherly smile and tender eyes looking back at her. “Take your time,” was all that she whispered before leaving the room, along with Jowan and most of the apprentices. 

When she heard no more voices, Veela ran to the doors, more by instinct than by any plan she may have had, but spotted a fully armored templar even before reaching the hallways. He was standing right outside the dorm rooms, along with many others across the corridors. Walking back slowly, she scanned the room one more time, looking for _anything._ The windows were all locked; the walls were made of heavy stone; the doors were all heavily guarded, there were no trapdoors anywhere. The realization that there was no way out of that tower came as soon as she reached her bed again. She was stuck there.

She crawled to her bed, hiding herself under the blankets. There, she disconnected from her surroundings for many, many hours, paying attention only to her troubled thoughts. Veela did not cry, although she wished to. She did not eat, even when the hunger was painful. And most of all, she did not leave her bed, no matter what. She lost track of her sleep, and for every time she woke up, she could not remember when she had fallen asleep. Sometimes she would feel the bed moving by her side and a voice whispering to her, but she couldn’t care to understand it, nor was curious enough to know what was inside all the little cotton packages placed and replaced on the pillows around her - it was food, for sure, but not of any kind she was used to having in her clan. 

_Her clan._ She thought of them a lot. All her memories turned into bittersweet stories in her head only to take the form of terrible nightmares later. Maybe if she forgot about them, it wouldn’t hurt so much, but how can one simply erase a lifetime? Family and friends? It wasn’t fair to them nor was it to her. She needed to go back, to get out of that place and find them wherever they were. After Creators-knew how long ‒could be one day or one week‒, she took the blankets off and sat on the bed, part of her wishing she would wake up from a dreadful dream and be back at home. Instead, she found herself exactly where she was before, caged in a stone tower. 

Around her, the apprentices were asleep, making no sound. It was surely past midnight and the full moon was shining brightly in the sky, filling the room with a cold blue light. She looked up at the window by her left, studying its frame. There was a locking handle right in front of her, but it surely wasn’t the only one for such a giant window that almost reached the ceiling. She ran her index finger around the lock, feeling the mechanism that seemed to be stuck in place. She tried to pull it up, but the handle did not move. Frowning, she held it tightly with her hand and tried to unlock it again, but also with no success. Veela then used both of her hands, but the handle felt like it was a solid piece instead of moving parts. That was frustrating, but she couldn't give up. Maybe she could melt it. Or freeze it and then break it. Would it make more noise than just breaking the glass?

“It won’t work,” whispered a voice behind her ears, scaring her enough to make her startle, but not to make her scream. It was Eryn, hanging her torso upside down from the top bed. Her curly hair almost touched Veela’s mattress with its length. “I know, I tried it before.”

“Well, I’m not giving up,” she whispered back.

Eryn jumped down from her bed in a near ghostly grace, making absolutely no noise as she landed by Veela’s side. “Do you see that?” she pointed up at the window. “Those are the locks two and three. There is also a small pin on the very top of the frame to prevent the window from being totally opened. And those hinges? They are so old it would sound like a demon screaming at all the templars in the hallway. They have night shifts, always aware and walking up and down in this tower and on the external grounds in a seemingly random schedule. They are always there, but we can’t know when each of them will arrive or leave, how many there will be nor which route they will take. Maker, there are templars even on the ceiling if you are not careful. I know, I _tried_ it before. Many times.”

She spoke fast but low, and as she did, Veela followed her words, from the locking handles to the hinges, from the quarter’s doors to the ceiling, until she finally laid her hazel eyes on the other’s. Eryn’s eyes looked like ice, in a spectrum of blue that almost touched the violet and matched her pale skin and silver hair. All of her looked like ice, cold and lonely. _She looks like this tower._ Veela felt her heart heavy again. She wasn’t supposed to be there, she should be out in the wilds with her clan, under the sun and on top of grass. Breathing was once again difficult, but this time she could not resist the tears.

“I just… Wanna go home.” Her voice failed and she covered her face with both of her hands. There was a mix of shame and despair in her sobbing, but she tried to not make a lot of noise to avoid waking up other people and having them seeing her like that. A pair of arms, however, embraced her carefully while gentle hands caressed her hair. Eryn was silent, for there was nothing else to be said, allowing Veela to return the hug tightly and find her comfort there. That night, they did not leave each other’s side and, for the first time in a week, Veela had a dreamless sleep after crying herself to exhaustion. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if,” she began with a bright expression taking over her face, “What if you came with me? What if we leave… Tonight?”
> 
> It was Eryn’s turn to frown in confusion, “What?”
> 
> “Yes! Consider this your own ritual to be an adult, or a Harrowing, if you will. You can even get a Vallaslin if it works.”
> 
> “If what works, Veela? Are you insane?”
> 
> "We can run away for good this time.”

“I don’t get why it is snowing today. It shouldn’t be.” 

“We are in the middle of the winter,” Veela chuckled, caressing the other’s hair and forehead with the tip of her fingers. Eryn was lying on the floor, with her eyes closed and her head rested over Veela’s thighs as she was sitting by the windows in the Circle’s greenhouse. Snow fell heavily over the island of Kinloch Hold, but still they were surrounded by hundreds of herbs, flowers and even some trees—a kind of contradiction that did not bother Veela anymore.

“But now we can’t go outside because it’s too cold for the templars’ silly armours,” she complained, “As if they would just freeze to death if they step out of the doors.”

Veela smiled and kept her silence for a few moments. Her pinky ran across Eryn’s nose towards her forehead, tracing invisible lines of various drawings on her face, and she knew how much the other apprentice enjoyed being caressed. “Tomorrow is your birthday, right?”

“Yes,” she smiled, glad that Veela would remember such a date. “That’s why it shouldn’t be snowing. We could have had one extra hour outside today.”

“You know, in my clan, you would be preparing yourself to receive your Vallaslin,” Veela whispered, almost as if she was telling a secret. “It’s an important date to turn eighteen.” 

“Do you mean your tattoos?” the other opened her eyes and got up from her spot, sitting down next to the dalish. “How is it done? The ink, I mean. What is it like? Did it hurt?”

“Calm down, Eryn,” she laughed. “Yes, it does hurt and no, I cannot tell you how it is done. Mostly because I do not know myself. All I know is from my own experience and from what I heard from others.”

“Well, then tell me!” she crossed her legs, facing her friend with eager eyes and a bright smile. Veela sighed, very used to Eryn’s endless curiosity after almost three years living together.

“We wake up early in the morning and go to a place of our own choosing to meditate and do some cleansing in our minds. When we are done—and this could be sooner or later, depending on the person—we go back to the camp where the Keeper will be waiting to give us our Vallaslin. Some people choose theirs, some trust the Keeper to choose for them.”

She paused, studying Eryn’s reaction. She thought the explanation would be enough, but her questioner’s face was still the same. She continued, a little bit faster, “Usually we also do it in groups, so everyone turning eighteen around the same time does it together. Then we all go to our first hunt as adults, all by ourselves. We stay in the wilds for a few days, come back as grown ups and have a nice party with the entire clan. It’s simple, really.”

“But you got yours much earlier. Why is that?” 

Veela shrugged, “I was the Keeper’s First, and she thought I was ready. In truth, I think she thought I was spending too much time with the hunters and too little with her, learning the traditions. I got my Vallaslin one week before I was taken here, but I would only go out to the wilds this year, when I also turn eighteen.”

Eryn bit her lips, apprehensive. “You… Never told me how you ended up here.”

“Well, that was the only thing you never asked,” she chuckled, but the curves on her mouth translated a sad feeling. “My clan was attacked. Apparently some farmers thought we were a bunch of Blood-Maging Suranas cursing their land to make ours more fertile and sent some Templars to our camp. Of course they didn’t bother asking first, so they just went for the Keeper with accusations. It all happened very fast and suddenly I was in the middle of a fight,” she paused again, as if asking if Eryn was satisfied with her answer. “The templars were losing to our hunters, so when they saw me using magic, they probably thought the problem would be solved if they knocked me out and kidnapped me, as if I was the blood mage to blame for the farmers’ crops. Bullshit.”

As her story progressed, Veela’s jaw tensed with clenched teeth and she frowned. “I have no idea what happened next,” she continued, “I was brought here and my clan probably moved from there. If they’re still alive, I mean.”

The Dalish turned her head away, staring at the snow falling outside the greenhouse as a way to clear her mind, but the icy touch of Eryn’s hand holding hers caught her back to the other’s tender gaze. “You’re going to find them again. If there’s anyone who I see walking out of this tower, it is you, Veela. One way or another, you’re going to find your family.” 

Veela smiled, wiping a rogue tear running down her cheek. She inhaled deeply, uncertain of what to say next, since Eryn usually did all the talking when they were alone. Then, a hint of an idea appeared in her mind, “What if,” she began with a bright expression taking over her face, “What if you came with me? What if we leave… Tonight?”

It was Eryn’s turn to frown in confusion, “What?”

“Yes! Consider this your own ritual to be an adult, or a Harrowing, if you will. You can even get a Vallaslin if it works.”

“If  _ what _ works, Veela? Are you insane?”

“Listen!” she was excited in a way Eryn had never seen before, grinning and breathing faster, but she kept her voice low, “I heard there are a few new templars arriving tonight. They come by boat. It’s too cold for them to be walking around. Am I making myself clear?”

“No, actually not,” Eryn raised an eyebrow only to pout next. 

“Eryn, we can wait for those templars to arrive and steal their boats. No one is going to see us because they do not take shifts outside when it’s this cold, especially at night. We can run away for good this time.”

The girl seemed to consider the idea, shifting her gaze from the other’s warm hazel eyes to the cold scenery outside the greenhouse. It wasn’t the first time they spoke of running away, but by the look on Veela’s face, this was much more than a casual daydream. She was determined and could barely stay still while waiting for a response. Eryn knew the tower like no one else, but she also knew how hard it was to get past the templars unnoticed, having tried it many times and always being lucky enough to not get caught. 

“Veela, you’re insane,” meeting the other’s eyes once more, she grinned, “And that makes two of us. I’m in.”

** 

At nightfall, the waters of Lake Calenhad were disturbed by the arrival of three small boats, each carrying less than half dozen templars to the island’s shore. The excessive amount of snow turned their landing into a much more laborious task than they were expecting, and they seemed in a hurry. Veela observed from her bed by the window as the new recruits bent their necks back to take a look at the tower’s outstanding height, ignoring the men behind them taking crates of goods out of the boats. There were apparently only two new recruits, but it was impossible to identify any gender or appearance on the tiny figures below. 

“Are you ready?” Eryn asked in a whisper, throwing herself by her friend’s side on the bed to follow where her eyes were fixed. One recruit, wearing no helmet, seemed to catch the Dalish’s gaze, but was called to help with the cargo. 

“I am,” she turned to face the other who was still looking down at the docks, “Is Jowan coming with us? Did you talk to him?”

“I did, but he’s not coming. Something about three being too many people and how he would slow us down. He wished us luck and promised to meet us outside someday.”

“May the Creators - and his Maker - guide him,” Veela murmured before meaning to get out of the bed.

“What are they doing?” Eryn’s brows frowned as she watched the newcomers, “Oh, Maker.” 

From a turmoil that formed close to one boat, a skinny figure surged between the templars. It was a young man, underdressed for the harsh Fereldan winter, trying to find any heat among the long locks of blond hair that covered his face. His hands were tied, and he was being escorted inside the tower with veiled brutality. 

“It’s Anders,” Eryn sighed.

“Who?” 

“Anders. He was my bunkmate before you arrived, but he’s always trying to run away so they just found him another place to stay around here. Closer to the templars, I guess.”

“I don’t think I’ve met him.”

“Probably not. You’ve been here for little more than two years and this is the second time he’s brought back to us since then. I don’t know if the templars are very good or if he is very bad at this game.” 

“I hope it’s the latter,” Veela exhibited a sly smile. 

“Let’s use this as an advantage,” Eryn looked back at the redhead’s eyes, “All the focus will be on him, so it will be easier to sneak out, but we have to move fast.” 

“We must go now, then.” 

They carried nothing but a pouch of food underneath their robes and one personal item each. Earlier that afternoon, during lunch, Veela successfully stole a small knife from the kitchen, sharp enough to cause some damage without being seen or heard, though she hoped she didn’t need to use it. Contrasting her friend’s choice, Eryn took with her the notebook containing notes from her leisure days outside the tower. She had other journals for her indoor studies, but that one was barely used and had plenty of space left for her to write. She managed to keep it safe in place against her stomach, secured by clean bandages that could also be useful in their journey. 

They walked out of the apprentice quarters as if heading to the dining room with the rest of the mages, but took a sharp turn before they could reach the staircases, waiting in the shadows for the hallways to be empty. After what seemed like the last group of apprentices, the girls went back on the same path they came from, passing by their dorms and taking another set of stairs to the ground floor. Veela was leading their pace, silent and smooth, aware of everything around her and holding Eryn’s hand tightly. She tried to act like in one of the very few hunts she took part with her clan years before, except that now she felt like the prey.

As soon as they reached the ground floor and continued on the circular corridors of the tower, a group of heavy armored men stood before them. All templars, and a young mage.

“Girls,” said their captain, “Is there anything wrong? Where are you going?”

Eryn felt the grip of Veela’s hand on hers tighten, and knowing no shame, blurted a response, “Captain Morin! Oh, it’s been a while, it’s so good to see you safely back here,” she grinned, “We were about to go have dinner when I realised I lost a quill. You know how First Enchanter Irving lets me use some, right? Anyway, I can’t find it anywhere and I think I might have left it in the greenhouse this morning. I don’t want to get in trouble again for losing materials, especially something so expensive as an Orlesian quill, so I must find it as soon as possible! You won’t tell Greagoir or Irving, will you? Please, I beg you to keep the secret!” 

Her voice resonated light and fast, playful towards the men. The captain laughed openly, raising a hand in her direction to interrupt the banter, “It’s fine, girl. I know Irving favours you, but if you’re not back in ten minutes, I will have to go after you myself,” he smiled suggestively, making her smile flinch. Veela pressed her hand even more, as if trying to form a fist. 

“Of course, Captain,” she exhaled, keeping her pose.

“You see what we have to deal with, lads?” he leaned slightly to his side, talking to the new recruits and opening a gap between the group and the apprentices. Behind him stood the young man with dirty blond hair covering bruises and cuts over his face, his hands tied behind his back. His eyes met Eryn’s and shifted to Veela’s. Dark and serious, his gaze studied them and glimpsed the knife in Veela’s right hand, hidden under her sleeve. She tried to better conceal the weapon, frowning at him as she kept her ground. “Paying attention to all of these mages, especially the elves, is hard work. Can’t let your guard down. Understood, Rutherford?”

“Yes, sir,” answered the recruit, the same one that seemed to have looked at Veela by her window earlier. He was also staring at her, but focusing on her tattoos. 

As the group passed by them, Veela’s eyes were still locked on the recaptured mage. Saying no words, he subtly motioned to the path behind him before disappearing in the staircase with the rest of the templars. On the floor there was a thin tool, used for lock-picking. With all the rustling of heavy armour echoing in the hallways, it was very unlikely that anyone would notice such a light piece of metal falling from his robes. The Dalish picked it up and quickly hid it with her knife. 

“What’s his name again? The mage’s?” she asked.

“We call him Anders.”

“I hope we meet again,” she smiled and pulled her friend by the hand to the greenhouse. They took the path on a long hallway contouring the Circle Tower with great glass panels to the external grounds of the island. It would be easier to unlock one of those windows than the main entrance, they thought. 

Time was running fast, and they needed to be faster. There was no talk about who should try to pick the locks when they finally chose a window that seemed new enough to not have its hinges covered in rust. Veela kneeled down and inserted the tension wrench in the lock, using the thin pick to move the mechanism inside. That was as far as her skills went, having learned the basics with a few hunters of her clan years before. Still, the first lock opened without ceremony. "Two left," she murmured to herself, moving to her next target. Their initial plan was to use their magic to open the windows somehow, but Anders’ unexpected help with those tools was more than welcome.

"Hurry up, Vee," whispered Eryn, eyes fixed on the dark corridor behind them while illuminating the locks with a simple light spell. "Dinner is not going to take forever." 

"I am trying," hissed the Dalish in reply. In a click, another part of the window opened, though Veela would say it was simply luck rather than her own skill. The third and last lock was in the far top part of the glass panel, “I need help.”

Pulling her friend closer, Veela climbed on Eryn’s shoulders without asking first and barely noticed any complaints from her. They couldn’t help but chuckle at their situation, knowing too well that they should have planned this escape better. 

“Ugh, your boots smell. Did you step in something weird?” Eryn prompted, holding the elf’s ankles beside her head.

“Well, yes, I’m stepping on you right now.”

“Ouch,” she laughed, but her smile faded quickly when they heard voices from a distance, “Uh, Veela?”

“Almost there,” the tension in her voice was clear, but her hands were still firm. As the sounds grew louder, their heartbeat quickened. The mechanism on the last lock was stiffer than the others, exhausting the mage’s patience. Cursing under her breath, she thought of using her magic to freeze it and then break it open, but it would be too loud and she probably didn’t have enough strength. Footsteps were echoing on their way, reminding them constantly of the seriousness of what they were doing. Finally, the tension wrench gave in in her hand and the window opened outwards. In a jump, Veela was off of Eryn’s shoulders and pushed the glass panel out, giving them enough space to access the external grounds.

**

The island which usually was a field of neatly cut grass was now covered deep in snow. Following Veela out, Eryn carefully closed the window behind her before running to the docks as fast as she could. The adrenaline rush kept them going despite the difficulty of getting through snow in simple apprentice robes. Not only were their clothes not made for running, they were also not suited for the Fereldan winter outside the tower. Shielded by the enormous stone walls and guarded by equally large fireplaces all the time, Eryn could not remember if she ever felt that cold in her entire life. The wind blowing in her eyes blurred her vision with the blizzard that announced itself.

“Vee?” she called, reaching a hand out to look for her friend. She heard a man shouting from inside the tower but did not look back.

“I’m here, don’t stop. We are almost there,” Veela held the other’s hand and guided her to the shore, where the smallest of the templar’s boats seemed to wait for them, with oars loosely left inside and no ropes tying it to the shore. 

Eryn jumped onboard, finally looking back to see her friend pushing the boat into the water. Far behind them, the great oak doors of the tower opened violently, bleeding torchlight as several men marched forward. A deep voice commanded them, followed by a much older, hoarse one that appeared to be leading. 

“Don’t stare, row!” Veela shouted, catching Eryn’s attention.

Oars in hand, the elves rowed as quickly as they could, neither having any experience to keep the boat steady. They just needed to get as far away from the island as they could and, for a brief moment, Eryn was sure they were going to make it. That is, until she heard a very familiar voice echoing in the air, husky by old age but gentle in its words. She didn’t look back again, but it wasn’t necessary, because as her oar hit the lake, the waters all around turned into ice and they stopped moving. Behind her, Veela cursed in her native language, trying to break free from that place, but Eryn couldn’t follow. Her sweat was as cold as the night and her heart was racing fast in her chest. There was no point in trying to finish freezing the entire Lake Calenhad and running across it because neither of them would have enough mana or stamina. Fighting a dozen templars was equally out of question. There was nothing left to try. They were caught. 

She closed her eyes as the heavy footsteps approached the ice path to their boat. Taking a deep breath, Eryn turned quickly to Veela and cupped her face with both hands before whispering in the most serious tone she ever had to use, “Don’t fight, don’t resist and say nothing.”

The fear in the other’s eyes was clear, despite her frown, and she nodded. The white-haired stood up and placed herself in front of her friend, raising both hands and allowing the templars to take her. They were not gentle and practically raised both of them from their feet when dragging them back to the tower. Waiting from the shores stood Irving, maintaining the ice path with his magic, and the Knight-Commander Greagoir, holding his breath in rage. He didn’t even wait for the girls to be brought to land before spinning on his heels and going back to the warmth. Irving was the last to follow, exchanging a brief look of disappointment with his students. 

**

The door to the First Enchanter’s study closed in a loud bang, the result of Greagoir’s unending anger.

“How could you?!” he shouted at the girls sitting on the guests’ armchairs while moving to stand at Irving’s side. It was clear that he barely knew where to begin to scold them. “Right under our noses! The whole tower awake! Do you think we are stupid?”

“Greagoir, enough,” called Irving, standing behind his desk. His resentful eyes moved to Eryn, “Do you have anything to say?”

“What do you think they could say?” once again the Knight-Commander’s voice rumbled over the room, “Isn’t it obvious that they tried to leave the tower? Stealing a boat and tricking the Captain? Those reckless elves! It was a matter of time before it happened, Irving, and you know that. I knew this Dalish would be a problem the moment she arrived. It was already difficult enough to bring her here, even worse to keep her, she’s too wild and is poisoning your student’s mind.”

The older mage turned his attention to his companion, muttering words of caution and composure. On her seat, Veela ignored the personal attacks and watched the men, trying to assess the conversation and deduce what would happen to them. For the last two years, her life had been the Circle of Magi, but she never really knew what truly happened to those who tried to escape from it. She heard stories of mages being transferred, turned Tranquil, put in solitary or even killed, but couldn’t know how far the Fereldan Templars were willing to go. She asked Eryn once, but she could only tell just as much as gossip. 

“They are only lucky that we will have the solitary confinement occupied with that Anders!” Greagoir shouted once more, his face coloured red. 

“For a teenager's attempt? Are you out of your mind, Greagoir?” the other’s voice was serious, but his tone kept low.

“They are adults, both of them. This is not the first time your precious pupil causes a scene, especially after this Dalish arrived. You’re too soft with her. She must learn how to behave properly under our rules,” he talked as if the apprentices were not in the room.

“What scene? Stealing books or exploring the tower? That’s the first time she attempted to escape, and we will not punish her as if she’s an abomination.”

“It is only a matter of time—” 

“Enough!” Eryn finally blurted, interrupting the men who turned their eyes to her. She raised her head, holding on to the armchair’s cushion with such strength that her knuckles lost its already sheer colour. Her jawline was tense and her brows frowned, but it was in her eyes that she let out her fury. Red markings of tears framed the icy blue of her irises, a sight that no one in the room ever saw or ever expected to see. She did not hold back the tears as it ran down her cheeks, sometimes landing on her lips and others falling down to her robes. 

“Excuse me?” Greagoir approached her, outraged. 

“Thirteen years! I have been in this tower for  _ thirteen years _ of my life! And I don’t even remember the other five. Of course I would try to run away!” 

“You will shut your mouth while you still can, elf,” the threat came through clenched teeth from the templar, but had little effect.

“I will not!” she shouted louder than before, eyes fixed on his, “I have asked countless times for both of you to let me travel, to assist you in meetings abroad, to help heal any nearby village or noblemen when they needed aid. You have always denied me the  _ only  _ thing I’ve ever asked. Well, I am tired of waiting. I will leave this tower and—”

“And then what?” Greagoir scoffed in pure disdain at her exalted speech, “You will join the Dalish and frolic in the woods? Or live in the middle of dirt and mud in an alienage? Maybe you’re thinking about traveling the entire world, making friends along the way? Don’t make me laugh, child!” 

He stepped closer as Irving watched, silent, from the other side of his desk. The Knight-Commander placed his hands on the armrests of her seat, cornering her while displaying his heavy armour in challenge, but Eryn stood her ground. He continued, “What do you think people outside do to elven little mages like you? You’re a danger to the common folk and they know it. You attract demons to their simple lives. They might even say that you’re a demon, too. Out there is where you’re most vulnerable to external influences, to mind games. We do not keep you here because we want to punish you! We wish to protect you and other people. We provide everything for you, and  _ we only ask  _ you to follow our rules in exchange.”

On the other armchair, Veela still watched the scene as if it wasn’t real. The tears on Eryn’s face had dried, but her expression did not soften. She looked like a tempest hitting a brick wall, trying in vain to break through. The Dalish herself did not know what to do, but her friend’s ferocity energized her. She aimed her gaze at the First Enchanter, as if silently asking if he wasn’t going to interfere. He did nothing.

“You have no one out there and no place to go,” continued the Knight-Commander, “Have you any idea of where you came from or where is your family? You don’t even know who they are!  _ We  _ do not know who they are. The best guess is that you were born in some shitty alienage and were abandoned at our doors because of your cursed magic. Even your family was afraid of you. You must stay here, for your own good.” 

“Greagoir, that is enough,” Irving finally called, walking around his desk to hold the templar by his shoulder and guide him away from the student. His voice was deep and low, and far more effective than any of his partner’s shouts and, turning to the elves, proclaimed, “Both of you will work in the library after your classes, and will assist the templars in their daily tasks. There will be at least one soldier assigned to each one of you to escort you around the tower at all times. Also, you lost your rights to go outside during your leisure day.”

“What?!” shouted Eryn, referring to the last part of their sentence.

“I will not accept any objections,” warned the mage, “You have broken my trust, Eryn, and I cannot let this go unseen.”

“For how long?” her voice crackled as she tried to hold back another wave of tears.

“As long as I find it necessary. You may return to your dorm room now. Greagoir, would you be so kind to ask for one of yours to accompany them?”

“I will do it myself,” growled the man, gesturing for the girls to stand up and walk in front of him as the trio left the room. Behind them, Veela heard Irving sighing and falling heavily to his chair. 

**

The group walked in silence back to the apprentice quarters, Greagoir holding both girls by their shoulders, guiding them through the corridors with rough strength. Veela shifted under his grip, but Eryn kept her head down, focusing more on holding back more tears than on her surroundings. The icy blue of her eyes was still displaying an intense, burning gaze to the stone floor underneath her, and the scene caught Veela’s attention. She had never seen her friend so surrendered to the Circle, and yet so feral to get out of it. It was devastating to watch. 

The doors for the apprentice quarters were already in front of them and Veela motioned herself to its direction, but was yanked out of the way by the Templar’s hand on her. “You’re not spending the night there,” he said, “I will not punish the others for your acts of rebellion and put my men to watch over the whole dorm room just because of two little elves. You’ll be staying in the basement room.” 

“ _ Fenedhis _ ,” Veela muttered. 

The room was no more than a closet with a single thin mattress and a blanket, used for situations like this. It wouldn’t be the first time Eryn had to sleep there for minor infractions, but for her it was worse than the prison cells. There were no windows there and the only reason why it was better than the solitary itself was the fact that it was less humid, dark and silent.

“Bernhard,” called Greagoir when spotting the young soldier coming in their direction with the newest recruit, as the group stopped in front of the closet’s dirty door. “And Rutherford, great. Both of you will keep watch on those two.” 

“Oh Eryn, what did you do?” Bernhard asked, aiming a sorrowful look at the girl. She didn’t answer, and her teeth clenched.

“I will ask for someone else to take your shift in a few hours,” opening the door, Greagoir pushed both girls into the room and locked them inside, “If you need anything, let me know.” They heard him say before leaving. 

There was only enough space for the both of them there, and Veela approached the door to try to spy on the templars on the other side. They were chatting in whispers about how the recruit didn’t need to worry about it, “They’re nice people, just a little wild.” Bern said. 

“Jerks,” with a click of her tongue, Veela scoffed and turned back to Eryn. Her friend was sitting in the far corner of the room, hugging her knees and hiding her face. She was finally crying, sobbing in a barely audible tone. “Oh, Eryn...” Veela kneeled down by her side, hugging her dearly and stroking her hair, “I shouldn’t have rushed you into this.” 

“I… I can’t…. Breathe,” she looked up, gasping for air in panic. Eryn tried to ignore the imposing walls around her that seemed to get closer, confining her. It felt like the stone itself was holding her heart in a fist while the thickness of the air weighted in her lungs. Her nails were digging into the skin of her palms. 

“Eryn, look at me,” she placed her warm hands behind the other’s ears, caressing her hair and jawline. Veela knew how much the mage hated small spaces, but seeing by how affected she was right now, she could not imagine how it had been for her to be locked there all by herself before. “Follow my breathing, slowly.”

The elf obeyed her commands, doing her best to focus on her friend. The hazel eyes of the Dalish looked like a dense forest in a distant land, where the sun would sprinkle light over the grass and tree trunks, and the warmth of summer would embrace their bodies. The scene filled her mind, and her heart soothed. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she inhaled sharply, wiping the tears from her face with the sleeves of her robes. She looked around, and could finally see the walls unmoving, hear the men chatting in the hallway, and even feel a soft breeze leaking from the door, accompanied by light, “Thank you, Vee.” 

The redhead smiled and moved to sit by her side, resting her back against the wall lazily. “I am sorry for putting us here,” she muttered, trying to not be heard from outside, “We should plan this better, next time.” 

“Next time?” Eryn also kept her voice low, gaze still fixed on the other’s. 

“Yeah, don’t you want to try?” 

“I don’t think so...”

Veela shifted on her spot, paying closer attention to her, “Why not? I thought getting out of here was the thing you wanted most.”

“It is, but,” she sighed, angry at the tears that formed against her will once more, “Greagoir is right. Where would I go? What would I do? There’s nothing for me out there.”

“There’s  _ everything _ out there, Eryn.” Veela frowned in a mix of annoyance and worry.

“No one is going to help an elven mage. I would have to hide everywhere, people would either be afraid of me or hate me. That’s probably how I ended up here. Whatever family I have outside must have despised me the moment I showed magic and handed me over to the first templar they saw.” 

“You could come with me, you know? I was kind of expecting that you did,” she crossed her arms over her own bent knees.

“What?” the girl blinked a few times, processing the information. She had never thought about it because she was sure the Dalish wouldn’t take any outsiders. “Can I?”

“What, you thought I’d just leave you? Of course not. My clan would take you in.”

Eryn did not answer and looked away, focusing on their only source of light leaking through the door. Ever since she could remember she wished to see the world and was willing to do it all by herself if needed. Bothering Veela and especially her family was out of the question… And yet, it seemed like her best option. Everything she knew about the world, she learned from piles of books, but it was Veela’s stories that always got her attention the most. Knowledge came from the tower, but life was out there.  _ The world _ was out there.

“Eryn Surana…” muttered Veela, brushing a lock of hair from Eryn’s face and securing it behind her ear while appreciating the sound of her own words, “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” 

A bright smile formed on the girl’s lips and she tossed herself in the Dalish’s arms, squeezing her in a hug. Her eyes were still teary, but the sound of her laughter was light enough to soften their moods, and Veela hugged her back, returning the smile. 

As long as they stayed together, nothing could stop them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Em for helping me edit and organize this story, you're the best and deserve the world ♡
> 
> Special thanks for you Ana for letting me use your Veela and creating a whole world with her, you're my best friend and I love you very much. Hope you enjoy this story, it's a gift ♡
> 
> And thank you for reading it!


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